The World's Worst
by Beiowulf
Summary: "I love you." "I've always loved you." A thousand miles apart, they both remember the words, but do they really mean anything anymore? A companion story for To Live in Forever
1. Summit

**NOTE: If you have not read my stories Build A Home and To Live in Forever, I recommend not reading this fic until you do. The storylines tie together in some places and it may be hard to understand if you haven't read those too. **

**A/N:** I'm back! Wow, that was really only a week wasn't it? My sense of time must be really off...

Anyway, here's the beginning of the LukaxGakupo fic a promised you. I meant to write one more chapter before I posted the first one, but *sigh* I am so uninspired today. Hopefully I'll write more over the weekend so you can get an update! Reviews encourage me! *hint hint*

This story jumps a lot between the past and the present so in particularly confusing chapters I'll have a note in my Author's Note to clear things up.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Prologue**

"What type of stupidity are you up to?" the young girl questions as she leaned over her friend's shoulder. He is holding his struggling tabby cat down with one hand and clutching a roll of tape with the other. He smiles hugely, using the less occupied hand to push back strands of amethyst hair that had escaped his short ponytail.

"This, my good lass, is the foundation of a duo of gecko gloves!" She blinks once at him, pitying the poor cat, and sighs.

"English please," she scowls and crosses her arms. He looks at her quizzically, as if wondering what it was he said that hadn't made sense. He gestures towards a tangle of nylon straps and Luka tosses them to him, who proceeds to wrap them around the cat and tape them even tighter in place. Luka grimaces, dearly hoping that none of the sticky substance had touched the tabby's fur. If the feline's coat got mats, he would somehow rope her into being the one that got them out.

He pulls on a glove, black and fingerless, and triumphantly makes a fist towards the sky while absentmindedly holding the cat by the scruff of its neck. "I'm going to see everything!" he screams. His cat sags under his grasp, seeming to resign itself to its fate.

With a flash of silver tape, he attaches the glove to the mechanism around the cat and hefts it upward like some kind of furry gauntlet. Luka stares.

"Behold!" he proclaims, seeming quite proud of himself. She opens her mouth but he's already running off across his lawn to a large oak tree. Upon reaching it he lifts the cat-glove onto the bark and rubs it up and down. The cat makes annoyed grumbling noises, but other than that not much happens. Slowly walking over, Luka can hear curses of frustration spew from her friend's mouth as he seems to attempt to use the cat as some sort of climbing device.

With a hiss very similar to his pet's – he had undoubtedly heard it before – he pulls the glove off, cat and all, and the tabby slinks away, rubbing the tape and nylon harness off on the fence.

"Cats," he states vacantly and pouts upward at the tree. Taking a few steps back, he eyes a high branch, and suddenly darts forward, grabbing at the limb and hauling himself up. "Guess I'll have to do it the old fashioned way."

"Are you insane?" Luka growls, realizing as she says it what a stupid question it is. He merely gives her a thumbs up and reaches for another branch.

"I'm on a stairway to heaven!" comes his excuse. Now a good ten feet above her, eight year old singing wafts downward, "_There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold and she's buying a stairway to heaven!"_ Luka darts around the trunk, glancing back at the house for his mother.

"Gakupo, get back down here!" Her words are lost to the leaves. He isn't even in sight anymore. With a breath, she looks behind her again and hesitantly reaches upward, her hand wrapping around a thin limb. Her feet scramble on the bark and she hauls herself to the next and thicker branch with a moan. Resting for a moment, she raises her gaze and locks with a pair of powder blue eyes. They shine excitedly and instantly he jumps upwards once again towards the branch he had returned down from with the energy only an elementary aged boy can manage.

She struggles upward, much slower and less experienced than the boy who darts between the branches above her, coming down every once in a while to help her through the tough parts. The limbs slowly grow thinner, the leaves sparser; Luka doesn't dare look down. Instead her eyes stayed focused on the boy ahead of her as he scrambles out to the end of the highest branch and looks around. He turns back to her, his face alight with exhilaration, and extends a hand to pull her up.

The wind blows her rose colored hair back as she blinks at the brightness of the sun. The neighborhood sprawls around them, cars lining down the streets and buildings rising in the distance as it gets closer to the heart of the city. Clouds drift above, seeming close enough to touch, and the familiar roofs of the school, the market, their friends Kaito and Meiko's house, seem tiny and doll-like. She doesn't notice as she begins to lean over too far, her grips loosening. An arm wraps around her; Gakupo, hauling her close to him and pushing her against the branch. She pouts with disapproval, but he just shakes his head and says something about not wanting splattered Luka for dinner.

She lays her head on the wood and gazes out from a considerably safer position, her friend still posed confidently above her, both feet on the branch, balancing on nothing. He winks at her. "Bet I look pretty awesome right now huh?" She narrows her eyes.

"You look like a crazy kid who climbed a tree and dragged his friend up with him." He nods solemnly and closes his eyes, seeming to find this description appropriate. They open again with a subdued look to them and he lowers himself to the branch, sitting next to where she clutches the wood with all limbs. His feet hang over the side, kicking slowly back and forth.

"Someday I won't look crazy," he says and gazes off over the city. Luka turns her head farther towards him and pulls herself upright, mimicking his position. "I'll be up here again someday, but no one will laugh at me," his eyes are far away on the horizon, a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips. Luka feels something strain within her, the idea of him being at the top. He'd be so far away.

"Take me with you," she blurts out and grabs at his sleeve. His eyes drift over to her with an easy smile and he links his arm through hers.

"Yup," is all he says as his eyes close in glee and he look back across the metropolis, the wind tugging out his ponytail and setting his violet locks free.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Summit**

Luka flicks the toothpicks off her desk irritatedly and slumps into her chair, earning a knowing chuckle from her blue haired friend next to her. For the past fifty minutes of the class Luka and the other architecture students had been trying to complete the seemingly impossible assignment - create a bridge out of nothing but toothpicks – with no success. Slowly, one by one, they just gave up, not caring enough to try and problem solve.

She gazes around the room, noting the slowly ticking clock and reaches into her bag, searching for something to read, but her hand brushes against something cold and metallic. Pushing aside old papers, her MP3 player stares up at her persuasively. A thought jumps into her mind and she quickly checks her phone.

_Yesterday, 10:30 PM, To: GK_

_Hey, how are you?_

_ Yesterday, 10:46 PM, To: GK_

_Are you there? _

_ Today, 7:04 AM, To: GK_

_I guess you were busy huh? Txt when you have the chance._

_ No new messages_

She flips the cell shut with a sigh and drops it back into the bag, replacing it after a moment with the music device. Holding out an ear bud to Kaito, she scrolls through the songs and picks one at random, letting the beats pound noisily into her brain.

_It's hopeless! The meeting was very important!_

Her eyebrows shoot up as the MP3 shuffles to a familiar song. The voice is deep and throaty, almost gravelly, but appealing in its unusual huskiness. She glances down at the device, pressing a button to make the screen light up, and stares at the face on the album cover.

She remembers the way those eyes lit up at the school festival two years ago when a man came up to him, complimented his performance, and introduced himself. A week later he had been packing up, ready to leave for his new job after just one year in music college. His dream job.

He'd gotten to the top.

_It's hopeless! Now I have to come up with an excuse!_

_ It's hopeless! The door just slammed in my face!_

_ It's hopeless! The next train is ten minutes late!_

A faint smile traces across her face at the unusual lyrics; he manages to sing about anything and everything and still make it to the top of the charts. Whenever a new album came out, his fans were never sure whether it was going to be about the end of the world or a day that he spent at the grocery store. Or in this case, losing his wallet. However, Luka had found that one good thing about his unique lyric content is that if you listened closely enough, you could figure out what had happened to him; he literally put his life into his music.

She hopes that meeting wasn't too vital.

The bell ring and students stand, groaning and heading towards the lunchroom. Instantly Kaito is striding down the hall to the classroom he stops at every day. Luka follows and watches with restrained amusement as his eyes dart back and forth, searching for a certain girl.

"She's not here. Miku's not here," he says worriedly and dashes over to a friend of the girl. Luka leans against the wall and reflects, half nervously, half entertained, about the two. A while back her longtime friend had been partnered up with timid Miku Hatsune for a project. In just a few days Kaito's attention had shifted to the girl in a way unlike anything she had ever seen. He walked her to school, sat with her at lunch, he went wherever she did; Luka doesn't really mind. Miku seems to have some sort of anxiety problem, always seeming tense and jumpy, but the man's presence calmed her if only a little. And Kaito of course could just not leave her alone.

"She didn't come to school today," he relays back to her after getting info from a classmate. Luka shrugs, not too concerned. Miku tends to miss school a lot, it isn't a rare occurrence.

"Do you think she's sick?" The man shifts from foot to foot and looks towards the door. She shakes her head slightly, surer yet of the hunch she's been getting. "I'll tell everyone where you went." He nods and dashes to the lobby, throwing the door open and taking off across campus.

She bites her lip and looks around, noticing that the hallways have begun to empty of students headed towards lunch. Not really willing to endure the antics of Meiko and the twins today, she wanders over to a seating area and leans on one hand, looking out the window.

Without realizing it her hand floats to her phone again, flipping it open and gazingly lazily at the screen. Her eyes widen and she sits up, clicking 'open'.

_Today, 11:47 AM, From: GK_

_Sorry, late conference. Lawyer was going over copyright terms._

The message is quick and impersonal, and it weighs on her in way that makes her wish he hadn't written anything at all. What had she been expecting though? A heartfelt hallmark card? A longwinded phone call? He's busy. Very busy. And getting busier every day.

She shuts the phone with a click that resounds around the room. He's being reasonable. He has work. He'll talk when he has time. Won't he?

Logical, reasonable, understandable; that doesn't stop Luka from feeling abandoned.


	2. Unavailable

**A/N:** Somehow the first chapters in this one are really fast paced, unlike the first two were it felt like I had to really push it to get the story rolling. Anyway, I think this fic will be about 10 chapters long. I got past my block (I hope) so updates should come pretty fast.

The parts go from past (high school years) to present to past again.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Unavailable**

Sickeningly hot rays of sun fall on the three friends as they walk home from junior high. The end of the school year is quickly approaching and soon they will be in high school. The girl sighs from in-between her two guy friends at this thought; time flies by so fast.

"What's up with you, Luka?" her blue haired friend asks, tilting his head. The other one continues walking for a moment but then stops and turns around confusedly, as if it took him that long to realize that no one was next to him.

She shrugs. "Ah, nothing Kaito. I just," she looks around the familiar streets. The three of them had lived in this city their whole life, although Kaito had moved from a different district when he was young. They had walked this way home every day for nine years, but one day they wouldn't walk it anymore.

Luka takes a step back as the boy ahead leaps backwards to her and whips a hand out of his pocket, slamming it onto her shoulder. She stares at him, waiting for some kind of explanation, but he just smiles and tosses his long hair back.

"You just what?"

Kaito's eyes flicker between the two of them, more exasperated than concerned. Luka furrows her eyebrows.

"What?"

"You were saying something," he frowns. "I put a comforting hand on your shoulder and you stopped. Continue."

"How was that comforting?!" Luka argues and the teen shrugs, turning back down the street with a sigh. Kaito shakes his head and continues after them, Luka fumingly stalking behind.

They reach a traffic light and Gakupo leans against a light pole, whistling. The wind plays with his long hair and the sunlight sends sparkles through his ice blue eyes. Noticing her gaze he turns his head again to her, and raises his eyebrows.

"Speechless?"

She waits for a second, the words on the tip of her tongue, before she shuts them down and stows them away.

"It's nothing."

The light changes and they cross, the two boys passing ahead of her, jostling and joking. One cerulean eye glances over a shoulder and settles on her, watching, making sure she crossed alright.

_'Ah, nothing. I just,'_

_I just don't want us to grow apart._

* * *

Gakupo wakes to the sound of screeching and flings a pillow across the room. Through bleary sleep-ridden eyes he sees movement as a young lady nimbly dodges the cushion and steps back out the door, her magenta ringlets bouncing; his assistant.

With a groan he pulls himself out of his bed, blinking against the bright light that streams in from his the large window in his bedroom. He frowns. Hadn't he closed those last night?

"_Teto!_" he roars and throws on a shirt as the girl comes bouncing back through the door.

"Yes sir, good morning. Now get ready fast because-"

"Why the hell are you in my apartment at six in the morning?" She doesn't even blink, just taps her watch and shows him that it is in fact 6:03.

"You have a photo-shoot," she monotones as he strides into the bathroom to splash water on his face. "Your manager planned it last minute. I came to wake you up." Gakupo sighs, mulling over how his assistant managed to get in here without a key, and just how last minute this photo-shoot would have had to be planned for him to have not heard about it the night before. He had only gotten in at three AM after all.

"Go get me some coffee and…uh…something to eat that isn't eggs." She nods uncertainly and begins to walk away.

"Be in the lobby in five. And why not eggs?"

"Eggs are disgusting," he reasons. "Think about it." With an expression of utmost horror Teto trots away and leaves Gakupo to himself. The door slams as she leaves the flat.

After a few more splashes and a gargle of mouthwash, he returns to his bedroom. Crossing the main section of the apartment his eyes fall over the furnishings; wall to wall ash-grey carpet, an expansive designer sofa, a flat screen, a well-to-do kitchen that he doesn't know how to use…

One hand pulls tangles from his hair as the other pushes clothes around in his closet, taking out a pair of black jeans a flannel shirt at random. It doesn't really matter what he wears now; the designers were going to completely redo him anyway.

As he turns from the spacious closet to the rest of the room, a flash of light, a reflection, catches him in the eyes and he darts to the side, tracing the offending light back to its source. With an intake of breath he darts forward and grabs it, flipping it open and clicking away as he strides out the door.

_Yesterday, 12:01 PM, From: LM_

_Aw, that sucks. Don't let them work you too hard :)_

_ Yesterday, 3:17 PM, From: LM_

_Hey, I have a question._

_ Yesterday, 3:32 PM, From: LM_

_Hmm, working again? Sorry I missed you._

* * *

The girl glances up from the park bench as another figure approaches. He gives an easy smile and sits down next to her, reclining and leaning his arms over the back of the seat. His long hair is pulled back tightly against his skull and falls in an unusually orderly cascade down the back of his high school uniform. The girl sighs and leans her head on one hand, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

"What do you want, Gakupo?"

The boy sends her a dour look and purses his lips, twirling a long strand of mauve bangs absentmindedly. "This is a public space. Maybe I just wanted to sit here. Can't there be such thing as coincidence?"

"With you," she slowly draws out. "…no." He stares at her for a moment and then turns away, making an odd clapping motion with his hands. When he turns back to her his expression is surprised.

"Oh, hello there Luka! Would you look at that, we just happen to be sitting on the same bench!"

"I'm leaving," Luka states boredly and begins to stand. A hand reaches up and grabs her sleeve, halting her. Glancing down, Gakupo is fingering the button on the cuff of her uniform and tilting his head sideways, frowning.

"So cruel," he sighs affectedly. "There's no need to mean." Luka waits for some continuation, and when nothing comes she tries to pull away again – to escape or get him to talk, she doesn't know – only to have him hold on tighter.

"If you keep doing that you're going to pull the button off," she warns. "You'll have to buy me a new shirt."

He pouts and releases her at last, eyeing carefully as if to make sure she doesn't run away while he's not looking. "I'm not that careless."

"You should be happy that when you hang onto my shirt like that, my most prominent worry is that you're going to break off a button," she snorts. He stares at her blankly.

"Luka," he raises his eyebrows. "Now you're giving me ideas." She snorts again. She's fairly certain that _she_ isn't the one corrupting _him_. He suddenly stands and lifts his nose to the air, an aura of elitism wafting around him. "Well," he expresses. "I guess I'll just leave if you really don't want me around." With a pretentious sniff he spins and begins to walk away, not halting even as Luka yells after him that it was his idea to come by anyway.

"Get back here you little-" she stumbles, not really finding a word that would properly suit her friend. Nonetheless, he stops and turns around, faint amusement tracing his smile, mixed with a hint of understanding. Though she hadn't said the words, he knows what she meant.

_Come back, I _do_ want you around._

After a few strides he's back by her side again, his legs now long with the growth that came with adolescence. His eyes trained on something in the distance, he smiles and hurriedly grabs her hand, releasing a small gasp from her mouth at the unexpected touch.

Spun around, she is tugged persistently behind him as he strides down the pathway. At her question of what they are doing, where they are going, he just responds with a smile and 'a walk'. She sees behind the words too though, as he had done with her, and unexpectedly her hand tightens around his and she picks up her pace so that they're walking side by side.

_I don't know._

_ I don't know._

_I guess I just wanted to be around._


	3. In-Between Moments

**A/N: **I (should) write a lot these next couple of days because I have HSAs Monday and Tuesday; AKA no homework. Never know when I may get into a block though, so we'll see...

First and second parts are present, third is past.

* * *

**Chapter 3: In-Between Moments**

The sky is a steely grey outside, a stark contrast against the hot amber liquid in the cup that Luka warms her hands against. She breathes in deeply, inhaling the steam and flipping pages in the menu that the waitress had brought her. After a few moments she sets it aside. She isn't so common a customer here that the workers know her by name, but they remember her favorite type of tea and she remembers what she likes to get.

Something about the sleepy sushi place is distinctly satisfying if not comforting. There's usually hardly any people that come here, and those that do are polite and quiet. Despite the calm atmosphere, there's a sea of thoughts turning just under the surface of Luka's mind, barely suppressed. What were those words again? Did she want to repeat them? How did that song go?

There's the sudden jingle of shop bells and Luka glances towards the door, tilting her head in surprise of what she sees there. A glimpse of a worried expression and teal hair whip back behind the door; there's only one person that could be.

"Miku?" Luka calls. The girl peers around the edge of the door and stares nervously at her. With an awkward smile Luka softens her tone of voice, attempting not to feed the panic that always surrounds the girl. "What are you doing here?"

She fidgets, biting her bottom lip. "Lunch…" she finally murmurs out quietly. Luka shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant, and gestures her over. Maybe if she's got someone else with her the horrifying idea of entering a restaurant won't seem so daunting.

"Thank you," comes the response as Miku sits down, timidly glancing around the place, her big blue eyes scanning the patrons rapid pace. Luka watches, slightly bemused, and wondering what it is that Kaito sees in the mousey tealette. She pushes the menu towards the newcomer and gazes out the window as she reads through the options. The waitress returns soon and takes their orders, leaving them in silence.

The thoughts swirl through her mind again, raining hazily down like whispers of snow, her fingers abstractedly tapping out a rhythm, a tune long forgotten, on the table top.

"So…how are things going?" Luka mumbles after a moment, trying to fill the empty space. Miku glances down at the table.

"Fine. You?"

_How are things going? That's a good question. _

Twirling strands of pink through her fingers, Luka sighs, pondering all the things that weighed down on her at the moment. "Uh, alright I guess. Just a lot of schoolwork and…" A pause. _What? What else?_ "I don't really know. One of my friends is just being really stupid lately." She shakes her head, trying to clear the thoughts away. The singing in her head goes silent. "Not that it's anything new."

Miku frowns slightly, furrowing her eyebrows. "No, you don't know him," Luka assures her, assuming that she's trying to distinguish who Luka was talking about. "I'm just lucky not all of my friends are crazy. Kaito and you…"

Her thoughts flicker to her other friend, a welcome reprieve from the other direction they were going. Crazy? Kaito might just be the exact opposite. The epitome of calm and collected, he always seemed to be a rock in the wild sea that was Gakupo. Whenever the purple haired maniac got them into some kind of ludicrous situation, he would always handle it, cool and unruffled.

"Why'd you say it like that?" Miku questions rather intently. Luka's eyes trail back to her and she shrugs.

""It's just surprising," she muses, thinking about the past that Kaito had shared with her and Gakupo soon after they befriended him; a boy sitting alone on the playground, drawing in the dirt. The story had been horrifying, seeing your parents die right in front of you, and she had been ready to jump to some sort of comfort mode, but he had just smiled and brushed off the story like it was just a bad dream. That attitude stayed with him now, unmoved, relaxed. "He has a lot of reasons he could've been pretty messed up." She glances out the window. Snow has begun to fall from the late winter sky.

As their food arrives Miku digs deeper, asking questions with a strange intensity that Luka almost finds embarrassing. She shuts down her prying quickly; even if Kaito didn't seem to care about his past, it wasn't right for her to just blurt out stuff like that whenever someone asks.

There are some things people don't want said.

* * *

Noise floods the college hallways as the two return from the restaurant, Luka striding purposefully towards her next class, Miku peering over heads and scanning walls. At a voice, Luka turns around to see Kaito starting towards them, his face lighting up the moment he sees Miku. Watching the girl, something about her relaxes, drops as he gets closer. Oblivious to the world, oblivious even to their own adoring actions, they focus entirely on the other.

_Isn't that familiar?_

She pushes it away, but it bounces back twice as fast, the memory prodding her like a red hot poker. Their connection can almost be physically seen it's so clear. It wraps around her, whispering to her, reminding her of it. Of what that bond felt like.

She lets out a quick goodbye and starts off, her breath coming faster now as images flicker through her mind, places, words, notes, a time, people.

_No_, only one

Just one person.

* * *

She opens the door to her new room with her foot as both her arms are filled with boxes. She sets them down on the sheet-less bed and glances around. The dorm is owned by Arden University, a prestigious college that she is lucky to have been accepted into. It is slighter larger than the normal apartments, and as such she has to pay for the usually free residence. But it is worth it. With a kitchen, a bedroom that doubles as a living space, and her own bathroom, an extra handful of green a month isn't too much to ask.

"Nice place." She turns around to the source of the voice and finds a smirking young man leaning in her doorway.

Oh right, he was accepted too.

They all did. By some stroke of luck, her group, the childhood friends, had all begun study at the same college. Was it living close? Did they have some high tests scores they weren't aware of? It doesn't matter. Now they are colleagues, grownups, architects, actors.

He swings his ponytail and whistles.

Musicians.

He stops, the note going flat, and stares at her expression worriedly. "Luka," he muses. Before she realizes it she's stepped across the room and grabbed his hands , spinning the two of them around in a circle like a child's playtime game. He laughs as they slow down and shakes his head. "What's wrong with you? You look…happy?"

She smiles and looks around the room. "Yeah?" she murmurs, pleasantly confused herself. What is it? What is this elation? There's a feeling, as if a meteor was hurtling towards her but suddenly ducked aside at the last second. She escaped something. They escaped something.

"We're," she whispers and turns back to him. His eyes are half-lidded, dark, yet blazing with a strange aura of thought. "We're all together."

He blinks, his gaze turning towards the window at the setting sun. Luka feels a warmth as he tightens his grip on her hands; she hadn't noticed they were still connected. "That makes you happy," he murmurs, more a statement than a question. He cocks his head to the side and speaks something too soft to hear, a wondering look in his eyes. Luka stares as he turns back to her, the atmosphere suddenly becoming very heavy.

"Hey," he says softly. "I wrote a song that I want to present in class." He looks out towards the sun again, seeming to find its blinding brightness easier to look at than Luka. "Could you listen to it and tell me what you think?" She nods. It was only a few years ago that Gakupo had really begun taking an interest in music. Some upperclassmen had persuaded him to join the high school jazz club and now codas and canons and minor keys are all he talked about. She is surprised people don't gather by the bathroom door to hear him sing in the shower as well as he had trained his voice.

With a grin he leads her over to a particularly sturdy looking box and they sit, Gakupo tapping out a steady rhythm on his knee. His eyes close lightly and a soft humming emerges from his lips, crescendoing into a song.

_ I wish we could speak in plain honesty_

_ Like we did years ago_

_ It's good that we can still laugh together,_

_ Isn't there more to us though?_

_ Will you smile at me if I act different?_

_ Would I like it if you did?_

_ The thoughts just go in circles_

_ It's painful that I can't come to a conclusion_

_ Once again at the moment when I see you_

_ I have an unknown feeling_

_ And even though it's just me here_

_ What is that strange look in your eyes?_

They sit there in silence, the echoes of the words hanging in the air. He gazes at her from underneath his lashes, the windows to his soul masked behind them. She shifts on the box, the distance between them seeming to close, but moving back is too far.

"That last line didn't really flow," she whispers, trying to think of something to say. He chuckles softly, his lips curling into a smile.

"Always the critic." She frowns at him, furrowing her eyebrows.

"That's what you were asking me to do," she argues quietly. "What else did you want me to say?"

His gaze suddenly lifts, steady, intense. "I…I wanted you to say it for me." She parts her lips slightly and he lowers his head again before standing up and facing away from her. "I don't have the guts to be the one to say it first," he murmurs as she sits there speechless, the picture becoming clear, a decision laid in front of her.

She knows the words, what he wants her to say. They're there, hanging almost tangible in the air. If she touches them, what will happen then? She can see two ways this will play out. An empty room and silence, or…or…

A decision.

Is it a decision?

There's no choice, no question, to need to think. This is how it has been, hasn't it? When it did start? Who knows? But now, now…

She stands, slowly stepping over to where he stands and slowly, gently, pushes her hand into his and leans against his side. She can feels his heartbeat, smell the musky scent of him, hear the way his breath hitches as she moves each of her fingers in between his own.

"I…I love you," she whispers, so quietly that she's surprised when he lets out a sigh and moves to pull her close against him.

"Always," he murmurs hoarsely, his face turning back towards her so she can see the sincerity, the passion, the excitement in his eyes. He leans down till their forehead touch, their noses brushing against each other. Their gazes lock.

"I always have," he says even quieter. His hands ghost up the sides of her neck, resting just underneath her jaw and her arms hang limp as he leans down slowly, gently, giving her plenty of time, and brushes his lips against hers.

Fire boils under Luka's skin and she gasps, pushing forward and back against him. Her arms rise up, entwining around his neck, and she pulls herself against him, feeling any space disappear. A hand moves to the back of her head, pulling her to him, the other wraps around her waist. Hot breath mixes as they move with each other, their hands pushing and pulling, until he winds up pushed against the wall. His vibrant hair falls from its hold in long strands, his lips pink and swollen from touch.

Luka moves forward, looking up, her chin resting on his chest. "Then why didn't you say so sooner?" she questions. His eyes move in a haze over her, his breath coming as if he just ran a mile. He shrugs.

"I must have been crazy." With those words he kisses her once more, softly, on the cheek and pulls her into him, holding tight with arms that seem to never want to let go.


	4. Time Gone By

**A/N: **The whole chapter is in the past.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Time Gone By**

Her hand is warm in his as he reaches over and grabs it, not breaking stride and pulling her along with him. She gives a little skip and stumble as she matches her pace to his and glares up at him crossly. "I was waiting here for thirty minutes," she mumbles. He stops at a campus road, looking both ways, and crosses, coming before the main building.

"Ah well, my cat got loose and the toaster wasn't toasting," he shrugs and looks at her pathetically. "I'm covered in scratches and deprived of crunchy bread. The stupid machine actually had the nerve to pinch one of my fingers when I tried to fix it."

He wags a reddened digit in front of her face for emphasis, but she just humphs at him, unimpressed. "You'll survive."

He stays silent as they enter through the doors, hands still united. Students swarm around them, chatting on their way the first class. "You're lucky I always try to get here early," Luka mutters next to him, obviously still in a foul mood. "Otherwise we would have missed out first class."

"You're the only one who would care," he retaliates and scrunches his eyebrows at her. "You could've just gone on by yourself, you know." She raises her eyebrows and looks almost offended by his words, or more exactly, the 'stupidity' of them. He braces himself for another round of argument.

"No I couldn't," she sighs. "That would defeat the whole purpose of waiting there in the first place." As they reach her classroom she pulls her hand from his and leans grumpily against the wall. "You're late almost every day," she says flatly. "You only live a few blocks across campus; how do you manage that?"

He sighs and looks her over. Her crossed arms, her eyes looking burningly down the hallway. To any other person she would appear furious, ready to rip his throat out, but he knows better. Knowing someone practically your entire life, you learn to pick up on some things. No, she's not angry – well, maybe a little – but more so she's hurt. Upset that he always seems to forget about her.

He leans forward, leaning one hand against the wall and using the other to move her face upward, bringing her eyes to his. They are a startlingly icy blue, cool, but with currents of water churning underneath. He exhales, closing his eyes for a moment and gathering his thoughts before opening them again and speaking softly.

"How bout' we do something later, okay?" Her lips draw closer together but her expression remains the same. "Go somewhere, get dinner, something," he whispers, drawling off and hoping to see some spark of interest in her. Her eyebrows slowly relax and she sighs, bringing her hand up to grabs his on her face and intertwine their fingers.

"Alright," she sighs and smiles slightly at him. "I'll meet you at your last class." He grins and leans down, brushing his lips against her hair and squeezing her hand. A resisting smile grows across her face as he does so and she drums her fingers against the back of his knuckles before letting go and turning to her class. "I'll see you later."

* * *

"You must have no sense of time whatsoever." Luka slumps into an open train seat and glares out the black window. They are underground right now, traveling underneath a city, and there is nothing to see but dark tunnels and pipes. It is impossible to tell the time under the earth like this, but Luka is certain that they have been riding the same line for about an hour. Gakupo stands in front of her, hanging onto a pole with a smug look on his face.

"I assure you," he says, being jerked around by the movement of the train. "My sense of time is perfectly adequate." He swings himself over to her and leans down, smiling self-assuredly in her face. "We're almost there."

At that moment the car suddenly floods with light and Luka spins back around to get a glimpse out the window. She sees the bright image of a setting sun and skyscrapers before a pair of hands wrap around her eyes and chuckle comes from behind her. "No, no, it's a surprise." He says it in the same childlike tone he once used when explaining that he was going to dig to China or something, but combined with his lower voice and the warmth of his hands on her lids it sends tingles down her spine. She leans backwards until her head hits his chest and she can feel the breath go in and out of him, hear the oxygen trickle through his airways.

The train comes to a stop somewhere and he spins her around, pressing her face into his chest and covering both her ears to prevent her from hearing the announcer declare their destination. After a moment he pulls her up and whispers in her ear, "Unless you want me to pull you around like some kind of kidnapper, keep your eyes closed, okay?" She sighs good-naturedly and nods, groping around for her purse and swinging it over her should.

"Just don't get me killed." He chuckles lightly as he guides her off the car and begins walking. The air is fresh and crisp - it must be an outdoor station – and she can feel wind pulling her hair around. Sunlight colors her sight pink through her eyelids and she can feel the heat of it on her face as she lets the hand holding her lead her through the streets of an unknown city.

All the sounds are familiar, car horns and people chatting on phones, the voice of the man next to her telling her when to watch her step, but there's something different about this place that she can't put her finger on. Something about it feels lighter, cooler almost. There's an odd scent in the air.

The sounds of civilization slowly grow quieter behind them and she feels the pavement underfoot change in density. The chatter and engines are replaced by other noises, the cawing of birds and a soft shifting when they step. After a moment they stop, the sounds of traffic rather far behind them.

"You can open your eyes now," he says.

She does, blinking against the reflection of the setting sun on the water stretching out in front of her. Seagulls fly overhead, diving towards the coarse sand and dark water that crawls determinedly up the shore before slowly sliding back. A quarter mile or so behind them the beach fades back into metropolitan areas with seaside parks and restaurants, but here it is all undisturbed.

"A beach?" she almost laughs. "A sunset beach?" she gazes around her at the orange and blue and purple sky and the pink clouds streaking towards the drowning sun. "That's so…when did you get so normal?"

He crosses his arms and stare out across the water, seeming very dramatic as the wind tosses his long hair around and seeming to know it too. "_I_ wanted to go skydiving, so don't call me normal," he states huffily. "I had the feeling you wouldn't take so kindly to that endeavor so we came here instead." He gestures around the scenery exasperatedly and then brings his finger to his head, pouting at her pointedly. "_See_? I was thinking. So sorry you don't like beaches."

Luka sighs and walks towards him shaking her head. "I never said that I don't like beaches," she says. "It's just that I was expecting skydiving or something else bizarre like that. I'm relieved." He blinks a couple times at her and moves his hand to the back of his head, scratching his neck.

"So, does this work?" he asks, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. She watches him, the way the dying sunlight dances in his eyes, turning them violet-gold, noting the ways he is still the little boy she had played with all those years ago and how he had changed. How they had changed.

She kicks off her shoes, the sand filling the spaces in-between her toes. His gaze follows her as she steps out into the surf, the cold water washing up around her ankles and receding again. She turns her head to look at him again, still standing awkwardly on the shore. "Come on," she encourages and kicks the next wave, sending up a spray of droplets that reflect the light. He kicks off his own sneakers and, after a thought, rips off his long pants too, standing there on the beach in his boxers and seeming very proud of himself. With a suggestive eyebrow twitch he storms into the water, sending up sprays of water in his wake. Luka yells as the droplets land on her, wetting her skirt.

"You are the worst!" she laughs, the humor of it all seeping into her attempt at being cross. He raises his hands innocently.

"Why's it a problem?" he chuckles. "Just do what I did!" Luka stares at him for a moment before lifting the sopping material and scooting the skirt over the top of her head.

"You'll have to buy me a new one," she says as she tosses it onto the beach. Turning back to him with a smile, an expression of shock has painted itself across his face. His eyes skim over her exposed legs as a faint hue of red rises to the surface of his cheeks. She crosses her arms. "Good God Gakupo, grow up." He looks at her helplessly, shaking his head. She shuffles her feet, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "It's no different from a bathing suit," she argues. "And you were the one that told me to do it!"

"It is _so_ different from a bathing suit," he mutters and laughs, shaking the tension away. He splashes up to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling them together. Their bare legs touch. Water from his arm drips through her shirt and down her back, making her shiver as the sea wind blows. She looks up at him and frowns. "I'm cold." He stares at her openmouthed for a second, before laughing and dropping his arm.

"You're on a beach, at sunset, with your wonderful boyfriend, _who happens to be half naked_, and you're complaining about the temperature?" His arms lift up as if asking God what to do with this one. "There is no pleasing you, woman!"

"Well let's see," she mutters and taps her chin. "What's missing from this scene?" Gakupo stares at her, cocking his head to the side. She sighs and steps closer, grabbing his collar and pulling him down to her height.

"You're supposed to be kissing me, moron," she says, blushing furiously. His eyebrows raise and a smirk spreads across his face.

"Gosh, so forward are we?" Luka doesn't get a chance to reply as his mouth captures hers a second later. Hands tangle in her long hair and skim down her sides, barely ghosting along the tops of her bare legs. She leans forward and presses herself against him, enjoying the low growl in the back of his throat at the action. Her arms wrap around his neck, pulling herself upward as his arms tighten underneath her thighs and lift her. She sits on his arms, suspended in mid-air, and stares into his gaze. With a sigh he kisses her once more on the cheek, his lips wavering hair lengths away from her skin.

"Better?" he asks, his voice soft and gruff.

"Much better," she breathes and leans her forehead against his shoulder. After a moment he does the same and they stay like that as the sun slowly dips below the horizon.

* * *

**A/N:** I felt so embarrassed writing this chapter. Has anyone else ever had to write something romantic like this and just found themselves either hiding behind their hand and/or laughing? What is the deal with that? Also, it was sort depressing because they got to be so cute and lovely here, but in the next chapter I have to make them fight. I'm so mean to my characters...

Revieeeeeeeeeeeew~! Please?


	5. Mute

**A/N: **I'm trying to make their relationship seem realistic but I didn't really know how to do that. I just kind of put in what would annoy me. Inattentiveness on the guy's part, silence on the girl's part.

...

Yeah, something like that...

Present, present, past

* * *

**Chapter 5: Mute**

Gakupo taps his pencil rapidly on his desk, staring at the blank score in front of him. He reaches over, tapping random keys on the piano, setting a new beat on the metronome, but there's still nothing there. No spark.

He throws his head back, running his hands through his hair desperately. Time. 11:26. It's getting late. He has pushed off his deadline for the finishing song of his new album for weeks now. Not out of laziness, but because he simply could not write anything. He felt dried out, too worn and work to make anything but common day actions and thoughts push themselves out of his brain. Now it's down to the last night, but there's still nothing coming.

He pushes out from the desk and leaves the room, entering back into the main room of his apartment. The pale lights of the city shine in through the window, alive even in the middle of the night. He stumbles around in the dark, touching random things, walking aimlessly, trying not to think of music, but knowing at the same time that he has to, and letting it worm its way back into his mind. Instead of the cacophony of sound he usually gets when trying to write, where he has to reach into the chaos and pull something out, there's nothing, not even a ringing or clang of drums.

No, there's nothing in his head.

But something is ringing, isn't it?

His eyes, heavily from lack of sleep and stress, float over to a tiny device that emits soft buzzes and a ray of light. It has sound. There's something inside it that's sparking. He's next to it before he realizes that he's moving, standing over it, staring at the face appearing on the caller ID, reading the name.

_Luka Megurine_

The name burns in the back of his eyes, the base of his throat, the pit of his stomach. There's something there. Of course there is. There's so much there. Why, why is…Why is she so far away?

If only he could hear her voice.

He grabs his own hand, reaching for the phone, and pulls it back, forcing it down to his side. The smiling face on the screen fades away as the call drops and the room fades back to dimness. He releases his hand, drawing both of them instead upwards to cover his face.

_That smile._

_Her voice._

_ Didn't she have such a nice voice?_

_She was always so nervous about it too. Such a silly girl._

_ She's beautiful. Every part._

His hands clench around his skin, digging into his cheekbones and leaving dents in his flesh. He would cry out, but there are too many words to say, and none of them would reach her.

_Because she's so far away._

_Because it's over._

_ It's all over._

Lifting his head, he reaches out hesitantly and grips the electronic, placing it in his pocket. He turns back to the room, feeling the tendrils of tone beginning to twirl around him again. He strides back into the room and grabs a guitar in the corner, strumming out a chord that dissents with itself. He does it again. Again. There it is. How sick, that pain would lead itself to art.

He feels the weight of the phone against his thigh, he can almost imagine it vibrating with the tune of another call, but he doesn't touch it. He can't touch it. Not yet. Not while he's like this.

_ This isn't how it was supposed to be._

_This isn't how we wanted it to be._

_ But that's just how it is, isn't it?_

_Over._

_ It's over._

_And whose fault is that?_

He strums faster.

* * *

Luka grabs the piece of toast as it pops out of the toaster and shoves it in her mouth, throwing her bag over her shoulder and dashing out of her dorm. She trots down the outside stairs and reaches the ground floor, walking along the road towards the main building.

The weather is warming up, with little sprigs of grass pushing up from the brown lawn. The spring sunlight is a welcome warmth on her skin. She pulls her hair back, securing it with an elastic, as she walks. Once the suffocating mane of pink has been lifted from her neck, she grabs her phone to check the time.

_1 New Message_

She presses open.

_Today, 12:24 AM, From: GK_

_You called me last night but I was busy with work. I know, invalid excuse. What did you need? Get back to me soon._

_I miss you._

She lifts her eyes, somehow watery, from the text and looks around her at the intersection, the tree, the bench under it. It is the place she used to wait for him to walk her to class.

* * *

"What's up with you?" he leans over the table at the café they sit at, raising an eyebrow. She meets his gaze with one of ice and criticism.

"Oh, nothing," she responds frostily and lifts her menu to prevent further conversation. She really isn't in the mood to talk to him right now. After everything he said, and the sweetness he bestowed on her when they were together, he had been late again, as any other time. When he arrived it was as if his mind was elsewhere. Floating over thoughts as his fingers absentmindedly played with her as if she was some kind of toy.

No, she is not in the mood to talk to him.

She hears him sigh and watches over the edge of the paper as he looks away, off into the tables. After a moment that faraway look returns, as if there's a road stretched out in front of him and he's walking it, not on a date. His gaze flitters back to her, but it takes a moment for it to focus and return to the present, actually see her there. His lips turn down in a frown and a strange look passes across his eyes before he looks away again, not even trying to start up a conversation.

Luka's hands grip the edges of the menu tightly, fury pouring into her from an unknown source. She pushes it down, trying to keep the mood neutral, but it wavers back up, leaking through areas that she leaves unguarded and working its way out in gritted teeth whenever his gaze darted away.

_Hey, say something._

He stays silent.

_Look at me._

He looks away.

_ We're on a date. Aren't you supposed to act like it?_

What? Does she want him to scoop her up in the midst of all these people and make out on the table? No, just…

His gaze flickers back to her. "If you don't tell me what's wrong I won't know."

"It's nothing," she whispers. He sighs and gets up, excusing himself to the restroom. Her eyes follow him as he walks away.

_Come back._


	6. Distance

**A/N: **All in present

* * *

**Chapter 6: Distance**

Luka doodles idly along the edge of her paper and the math equations and angles slip her mind, whispering out the classroom like the air through the open window. It is a fair sixty-five degrees out, and after a bitterly cold yet practically snowless winter it feels like paradise. She glances once at the unfinished design on her paper on her desk and then at the clock, deciding that she can spare a few moments to let her thoughts wander.

Her pencil spins along the unused graph space on the margin creating swirls and haphazard smiley faces. She was never an extremely artistic girl, that creative aspect of design typically fell into her friend's range – busily sketching an intricate concept of a car at the neighboring table -, and the doodles look no more impressive than a kindergarten finger painting. All the same, there is a certain kind of relaxation in simply letting your pencil drag across a page.

She pulls herself back together and finishes the assignment right as the bell rings. Passing in the paper and stowing away her pencil, her hand brushes against her phone and pulls it out, an automatic habit that she's been doing more and more often nowadays. Especially since that message yesterday morning.

_I miss you_.

She had typed back, called back, but never gotten ahold of him. She supposes that him being miles away in an important city in some random country would put him in a different time zone, but even so, unless he has no coverage wherever he is the messages should be getting through. Is he just not responding?

She lets out a sigh as she flips open the phone, noting that she has an alert from the online music shop she subscribed to. After entering her favorite albums and artists, the website had set itself up to notify her anytime a song was released that may catch her attention. She reads the message slowly, leaning against the wall in the hallway. A small smile spreads across her face at the announcement at the bottom and she opens up the internet browser, typing it in.

_Gakupo Kamui: World's Crying_

She plops herself down on a sofa in a sitting area as the file loads, making a new album cover appear in her gallery. The bar fills up and the song plays as she puts in the earphones, closing her eyes and listening to heavy drums and base roll out the speakers.

_Do the days I pictured before I reached my destination exist anymore?_

_There is no mask capable of hiding a heart that's simply ugly_

_Moments are repeated over and over _

_Scrambling, fighting_

_Even the lament that was concealed_

_Is so distant it goes unheard_

_Unaware of that crying voice flowing out in silence_

_Things that have broken down, this world that has been broken_

_Our past selves, from the times we spent laughing_

_Are gone beyond distant memories_

_Like vanishing illusions_

_Now, with hands so sullied and eyes that have ended up dry_

_Can I bring happiness to anyone?_

The tune continues in its same forceful and wretched dynamic, pounding against Luka's eardrums and causing a painful tightening in her chest. If he puts his life into his music, then this song, this strange pain, is his life right now.

She yanks the earbuds out and quickly brings up the contacts screen. Her phone is pressed against her ear, ringing, ringing, but again no answer. She tries again, ringing, ringing; voicemail. The beep sounds.

Her mind goes blank. What was she calling him to say? What had she ever been calling him to say? Where are you? What have you been doing? I'm worried?

"Gakupo?" her voice sounds tiny in the emptying hallway. She'll be late to her next class, but she doesn't care. She clears her throat, speaking up. "It's Luka. I just…I can't seem to get ahold of you." Her eyes squeeze shut and she clamps her mouth closed, surprised at the onslaught of emotions that surge up at just saying his name and knowing that at some point he'll hear it. "Contact me tonight, and don't forget." Her voice trails off. The hallways are empty.

"I miss you."

She snaps the phone shut.

* * *

The lights are dim in Luka's dorm as she pulls the sofa out to create her bed. After locking the door and drawing the blinds she sits down on it, pushing her freshly washed locks over one shoulder. She grabs a textbook, half looking through it, half listening – hopefully not in vain.

The algorithms all shift together on the page and she finds herself just sitting there, not particularly thinking or doing anything, barely breathing. Her neighbors underneath her – usually sending blasting music and sounds she'd rather not hear upwards – are surprisingly quiet, and the only thing she can hear is the soft patter of pigeons across the roof as they crawl to their nests in the eaves.

Her eyes close, heavy, and she sets the book aside to lean back on the pillows. Breathing in deeply she turns to turn off the side lamp and plunge the room into darkness, when her phone dings as if it had been waiting for her to give up before delivering the message.

She grabs it with trembling fingers and flips it open, reading the words once to see them, twice to understand them.

_Today, 11:02 PM, From: GK_

_We're playing Marco-Polo. With cell phones._

A small bubble of laughter bursts from her mouth, surprising her, and causing her to laugh again at the ridiculousness of the action. It's just a text. Just a text.

_Today, 11:04 PM, To: GK_

_Very true. Now that I've caught you, can you talk?_

She waits a few moments for the reply to come back.

_Today, 11:05 PM, From: GK_

_No. I think we should just send random pictures back and forth._

Attached at the bottom is a photograph of cat dressed up as a frog. Luka looks at it quizzically.

_Today, 11:07, To: GK_

_Because that would obviously be productive. You did _not _get another cat. I swear your old one died from gratuitous amounts of affection/stress._

_ Today, 11:08, From: GK_

_Mr. Mittens loved me, you know he did. And what is not productive about cat-frogs? L_

Luka shakes her head and smiles faintly as the conversation continues, switching back and forth between pets, music, and strange foreign food. As the familiar and strangely comforting absurdity that is Gakupo pushes its way out through texts and emoticons Luka feels a sort of clench in the center of her stomach, half pleasant warmth, half painful longing. He's so familiar, but stifled through the uniformity of letters on a screen. It would be better if he was there, if she could hear him, feel him…

But that won't happen.

_Today, 11:34, From: GK_

_Luuuuuka? Where'd you go?_

She stares down at the text in surprise, noting that she had been lost in thought for a while now. Her fingers dance across the keys, desperate to reassure him that she's there before he gives up.

_Today, 11:34, To: GK_

_Ah, sorry. I zoned out _

_ Today, 11:35, From: GK_

_Zoned out? Wait a second, it's almost midnight over there!_

_ Today, 11:36, To: GK_

_Yes?_

_ Today, 11:37, From: GK_

_Um, GO TO SLEEP._

Her mouth opens slightly, confused at his reaction and miffed at the idea of ending the conversation.

_Today, 11:39, To: GK_

_Since when do you care about sleep?_

The response is quick.

_Today, 11:40, From: GK_

_I don't get to sleep. I'm undead. Besides, it makes you feel all sick and weird if you don't get it._

_Just go to sleep._

She sighs and rereads the text again, trying to determine if she's only imagining the warmth she finds in the last words. She types slowly back, thinking, and moving her eyes deliberately across the letters.

_Today, 11:42, To: GK_

_Alright, I suppose I don't want to join you in your zombieness._

The next words don't come so easily. She swallows, biting her lip, writing down the message and sending it off.

_Thank you for remembering._

She holds her breath as the last message comes, short but carrying the force of a steamroller.

_Making the same mistake twice is stupid. I'll see you around._

What feels like a chuckle rises in her throat, but when it comes out, she chokes on it, creating a muffled sob that echoes around the tiny room. Glancing around her, she can recall moments spent in here, moments spent together, and other moments, ones that weren't so happy.

Silences,

Waiting,

Yelling.

* * *

**A/N: **_Great_, I've got writer's block again. Of course over a long weekend when I actually have time to write. That's just fantastic. Well, whatever. I'll keep shooting out chapters, but it'll be painful. Pain...

_I have a story to tell you!_ So yesterday my internet wasn't working and I could only listen to Vocaloid music I already had downloaded onto my computer. Well, this was all stuff I hadn't heard in a really long time and I fell in love with it all over again. You can guess where that went. Yup, ideas galore. I have so many great ideas for upcoming fics that I don't know which one to do next! Over the next couple of days I'm going to put up basic ideas I have for the stories on my profile and I want you all to vote for the one you want. Some are based off of songs, others just my imagination. Whatever has the most votes will be the one I write after this is finished!


	7. End of Time

**A/N:** I hope the story is making sense so far. I feel like I'm not explaining things enough. I suppose I did really mean for this to be read along with To Live in Forever so that they would fill in the gaps for each other. Whatever. Tell me if you're confused.

All in past

* * *

**Chapter 7: End of Time**

Peppers sizzle in the frying pan as Luka flips them, sending the cooking aroma wafting around the small kitchen. She plops in two pieces of chicken and turns down the heat, covering the skillet. The muted popping and hissing underneath the lid are a stark contrast against the humming floating in through the doorway. With a wipe of her hands on a towel she steps back into the main room of her apartment, hands on hips.

Lying upside-down on the couch with his legs spread up the wall is Gakupo, whistling and humming, no doubt trying to come up with some new melody. Lately that is all he seems to do, not that Luka can really blame him. Just a few days ago was the school festival and he had been a hit with his music. One of the scouters from a record dealership had been there and heard him. He said yes to the offer of course. It was, after all, what he had always wanted, wasn't it?

He tilts his head back and smiles at her, his bangs falling away from his face. "Smells good," he comments. "If you're making chicken that is. Otherwise, well…" His face scrunches up as he recalls her past culinary failures. "Remember when you tried to make microwave brownies…?"

"I don't," she responds flatly and he laughs. Her face tinges red slightly at memory of said disaster and she bites her lip resentfully. Her microwave had never been the same. With a sigh she leans down, resting on the backs of her feet, and stares downward at him. Their eyes meet and he reaches upwards, his hand brushing her cheek.

He pulls himself up and pats at the space next to him. She sits, her fingernails digging into the material of the couch, and leaning hesitantly against him. His arm wraps around her and pulls her against his side, his face resting against her hair. As she sits there, wrapped in his warmth, breathing his spiced scent, something inside her lowers, falls almost, until she feels like a candle flame, looking upwards at the snuffer that will smother her.

"You're leaving soon, aren't you?" she whispers. He pulls back slightly.

"Three days," he says. He sounds confused.

She bites her lip and looks down, memories going through her head. He watches her with thoughtful eyes and leans over to kiss her once on the cheek. She smiles slightly, but it quickly falls of her face.

"Luka, what is it?" She shakes her head and stands, striding towards the kitchen.

"Nothing." There's a sound behind her as he jumps up, slamming the couch against the wall in his haste. She spins around and meets his eyes, wild, disordered, and stops in her tracks, folding her hands in front of her.

"Is this about the job?" he asks, his voice ragged. She lowers her gaze focusing on the ground. No. Not exactly. "What are you worried about?" he takes a step closer and raises one hand absentmindedly, his gaze like blue lasers penetrating to her core.

"Maybe…" her voice is very quiet. "Maybe I'm afraid…that you'll forget." Even as the words leave her mouth she wants to grab them back. She can feel them floating around the room, starting a fire that she's not sure how to put out.

He laughs, a choked bitter sound. "Forget what?"

"Me."

The room is silent but for the sizzling of the pan in the kitchen. He moves a foot forward, softly setting it down and then moving another one until he's right in front of her. His fingers lift her face upwards to his to look back into his troubled eyes, dancing with a hint of confusion and something else. "You know I wouldn't do that."

"Do I?" she breathes and blinks her eyes rapidly, stopping tears before they start. "Do I really know that you'll still remember me a thousand miles away when you can't even remember me here?" She clenches her teeth as her hands start to shake. Only his firm grip is keeping her upright. "Honestly Gakupo," she smiles, the stretch of her skin feeling like torture. "I have to remind you that I'm here half the time."

He raises his eyebrows, his fingers unconsciously pressing tighter against her cheeks. He can't seem to find words to speak although his mouth parts and closes a few times. "Do you even like me at all?" Luka finally whispers and his eyes spread wide, his hands coming down to grip her shoulders.

"Yes!" he pleads, he pushes his face forward, forcing the word into her mind, but she clenches her eyes shut, lowering her head with a strained grin. "I love you Luka!" His voice is desperate, his fingers toy with the ends of her hair. "I've said it again and again, so what do you not understand?"

She pulls herself back to look upwards at him, his expression is flustered, shocked. She grabs his hands and holds them in her own, lifted in between them as if dancing. "I don't understand…" her words are muddled, her thoughts dizzy. There are ideas, reasons going through her head, followed around by a swirl of emotion. "I don't…" she closes her eyes again, biting down on the surge of guilt and anger that bubbles up in her, but then releasing it in a vicious tone. "I don't understand why you would leave me like this." He stares at her, at a loss for words, as a sick feeling begins to creep through her body. She doesn't understand what she's saying. Is this really how she feels? Is she so selfish that she rather have his dreams be crushed than have him leave her completely? Already in mind, but now in body too?

No. She's not. She's not because…

"You promised me," she mutters and drops his hands. They stay there, held in midair, as hers lower and clench into fists. "You said you would take me with you when you got where you were going so-!" She stops suddenly, finding no more words to stay. What she is saying is ridiculous, childish, but it doesn't feel that way. No, it doesn't feel unreasonable. It only feels like longing and pain.

His breathing is loud as turns slightly to the side, rubbing his face before turning back to her. "I _can't_ take you with me," he says, his voice sharp. "My manager expressed that clearly." His gaze is wild, despairing as it looks at her, taking in the sight in front of him and seeming just as confused and guilty as she feels. He grits his teeth and locks his jaw. "_I can't fit my entire life around you."_

The words leave a ringing in the air, and both of them stare wonderingly at the other. Gakupo appears shocked, as if terrified that the words had come out of his mouth. He raises a hand, first reaching towards Luka, but then retreating to cover half of his face.

"That…that wasn't…" his words are lost to the ringing soundlessness. Luka doesn't need to hear anything else though. She knows what this is. She had felt it coming for a while now, just had been pushing it back, acting like if she didn't acknowledge it, it would go away. But it won't go away now. It was here, staring them blankly in the face.

"This…isn't going to work, is it?" her voice sounds dead, even to herself.

He one eye locks on her around his hand before it closes, slowly drawing his eyebrows together. The dim light in the room darkens the almost invisible lines of stress on his face, making every crease stand out. Their breathing synchronizes, still surprisingly steady despite the turmoil of the situation.

"No," he whispers finally. His voice is as rough as sandpaper. "It's not." He lowers his hand and his eyes open, meeting hers as they read each other's faces, each urgently searching for a response but finding nothing but cold regret. Without a breath or another sound Luka steps backwards and opens the door, lowering her head towards it and looking away. He steps forward slowly, coming to rest in the doorway and suddenly turning around, taking a step back in.

"No," he gasps as she takes a step back, leaving the door to swing and hit his outstretched hand. He pushes it open once more and looks at her, a smile as tense as elastic stretched across his face. "No, Not like this. I won't have us end like this." He shuffles another half foot forward, only to freeze again. He tilts his head, his eyes becoming glassy, like one-sided mirrors.

"Let's just pretend like it never happened," he says, the words spilling off his tongue in monotony. "That way…" he reaches forward towards her, as if to cup her face like he had minutes ago, but she is too far away. His hand falls and he steps back again, drawing the door behind him. "We'll still be friends." His eyes shine in the darkness of the hallway.

She stands there for a moment, thinking, not breathing, and eventually rewinding, as she slowly nods her head. "Yes," is all she can say and he smiles, shutting the door.

_Friendship_

There's a screech from her kitchen as the fire alarm beeps, alerting her of the smoke wafting around the stove. She whips the top of the pan and waves the smoke away from the burnt dinner, made for two and now to be eaten by no one. The smoke stings at her eyes, but it doesn't matter; she's already crying. The charred chicken and ruined pan blur away as she collapses onto the floor, the world spinning around her.


	8. Departure

**Edit: **ah! I forgot! Past, present,present!

* * *

**Chapter 8: Departure**

People chatter all around them as she follows him through the airport, his luggage clicking along the tiles. Outside the large windows the sky is a crisp blue with puffy white clouds interspersed across it; a lovely day for flight.

Reaching the gate he turns around to face her, his expression a carefully constructed mask of ease and cheer. "I guess this is it," he says with a smile. It doesn't touch his eyes.

She feels behind the words, the deeper meaning, and takes in a bid breath of air to steady her spinning head. Tears prickle at the back of her eyes and for a moment she envisions a different path, one where she throws herself at him, clinging, not letting him go. It what she wants to do, but one look upward sends a plastic grin across her face and a robotic giggle from her mouth.

"Yeah, good luck," she says and tilts her head, the epitome of happiness. _Don't make it harder. Don't make it any harder than it already is._

He looks at her for a moment before dropping his bag and pulling her against him with one arm, his chin resting on top of her head. She barely stifles a gasp. The contact is merely kindly, a bitter-sweet farewell gesture between friends, but all the same it sends shuddering shivers down her spine; the reminiscence of touches in the past.

He holds her there for a second, not saying anything, and she feels his chest expand with every breath, the air trailing down the back of her neck. She can smell him, feel him, see him, and it finally dawns on her that she may never do such things again. After this, this last moment, what is keeping him here? What would ever be the reason to return to the small-town life when he could live one of grandeur and adventure? What was she anymore? A memory? A painful one? Perhaps one that would be easier to forget?

She forces her hands to stay by her sides, not reach up and dig into the material of his shirt, the contours of his shoulder blades, and touch just one last time the boy she had grown up with. Her neighbor. Her best friend. Her…

Neighbor. Her best friend. That is all he is now, isn't it?

He pulls back from her finally, any light behind his eyes shutting off and going far away. "Keep in touch," he whispers, his voice sounding surprisingly small and gentle. The words echo around Luka mind, banging on doors half-closed, grazing over wounds still bleeding. She closes her eyes, regaining composure, and sending the thoughts to the back of her mind. They don't matter. It doesn't matter.

She smiles once more as he picks up his luggage. "I will. Be safe." The last words come out her mouth before she can stop them and she instantly wishes she could pull them back. They sound too final, too bleak. With a nod and a wave he turns away from her and strides down the pathway, handing his ticket to an attendant. She watches as he becomes a distant shadow and turns entering the plane. Even afterwards she stands there, gazing after him as if waiting for him to come back.

The gate empties of people and she wanders to the window, watching as the plane pulls itself away from the building and trolleys to the runway. As it passes she squints, trying to see in a window, but sun reflects off the glass and she has to look away.

The machine charges forward, gaining speed until it lifts into the sky, cutting across the blue like a knife. Her hands clench against the window as it speeds away, fading into a tiny dot before vanishing completely. The sounds of the surroundings beat dully in her head as she leans it against the glass, the sleek surface blessedly cool.

One tear drops to the floor without her consent. She watches it, holding out for a moment, and then deciding that she doesn't care. He's gone now. There's nothing to lose. They fall more rapidly now, though she makes no sound, focusing instead on a phrase going over and over in her head.

_That didn't mean anything._

_That won't change anything._

_These feelings can't matter._

* * *

Luka sighs as she plops herself under a tree, spreading her legs far out in front of her. The sun beats down surprisingly heavy for a spring day and she is radiating heat from the exertion of the baseball game that just ended. The twins had jumped her on her way home from the library and roped her into a game, which turned into two games, which turned into three. It seemed as if they had pushed every available person they knew – and there aren't many people they don't know – into the games to do battle under the flaming sun. Len's scowl made even the metal bats feel cold and Rin pitched with a vengeance; Luka wonders what's going on between them.

She sits back and studies the field, dusty from lack of rain. She's quite fortunate to have actually known how to play the sport – unlike a few unlucky souls who wound up running _towards_ the opposing players or getting a ball to the head. All around, players recline in the grass, dusting themselves off and rubbing sore muscles. She finds herself focusing on a group of three, younger than herself, as they goof around and push each other into the dirt, eventually getting into a playful wrestling match. The scene is familiar; she played here with her friends long ago.

She hears someone call her name and turn to see Kaito waving, signaling that he's about to leave. Behind him a small figure is already trotting away, an array of grocery bags hefted onto one hip. Luka smiles, waving back, and he turns chasing after the retreating girl. At her side, he takes the bags from her and walks ahead. Her feet step down in the shadows of his last paces. Luka feels her smile falling and suddenly a breeze whistles through the park. She shivers, holding herself close, finding the wind way colder than it should be. It seems to bite to her very core.

_It hurts._

Or is it really the wind that's stinging?

* * *

A stack of papers is plopped down on Gakupo's desk. He stares at them disbelievingly, raising his eyes to the girl standing above them. She gives him a curt nod, her magenta curls bouncing, and gestures to the various files.

"These are copyright agreements, permission slips to use your image," she lists out the papers, sorting them into piles and pointing to each as she names them. Gakupo sinks down in his chair, rubbing a hand across his eyes. He had just gotten back from a concert no more than ten minutes ago. He had been looking forward to a long hot bath and a twelve hour nap. Instead, Teto had bombarded him the moment he stepped into his apartment, bringing orders from his manger and stacks of paperwork like some kind of form-filling demon.

"These all have to be done by tomorrow," she states in her usual machinelike tone. "I will pick them up then. You have a meeting at eight o'clock tomorrow morning." Without another word she turns and exits his office, leaving him alone with the papers covering his desk.

He groans and stares around, noting the late hour on his digital clock. He flips through the pages, wondering why he has to be the one to do this and annoyed at the fact that he distinctly remembers signing almost these exact same agreements not a month ago. Are they constantly in need of renewment, or does his manger just like giving him a hard time?

He pushes back from the desk, standing and pacing around the room, running his hands over the keys of the upright piano, aimlessly plucking at the strings of a guitar. The notes dissent with each other and bounce around the room, doing nothing to calm the tempest in his mind. There's a strange roar in his head, like the pounding of a thousand horses. He can't put his finger on what's causing it or where it's coming from, but the notes of the plucked strings seem to amplify it, the stacks of paper cause the whole room to shake.

He puts his hand to his head. What is this? He closes his eyes, meaning to take solace in the predictable darkness, but instead finds images flickering through mind, painting themselves across the inside of his lids. His eyes flash open, his hand reaching out to steady himself on a bookcase.

The room goes quiet, the roaring a distant echo, at the edge of his senses but ready to come back if he does not follow the path laid in front of him; the one bit of amity in an upside-down world.

"So that's it, huh?" he murmurs to himself, unconsciously striding across the room. His hand wavers over his desk, shifting through the papers until he contacts something cool and metallic. He sighs, feeling an icy wave of calm wash over him followed by an even stranger giddy warmth.

Even as he lifts up the device he feels a tingling starting in his fingers, spreading all throughout his body and igniting something he hadn't realize had died. He punches new numbers in, ones he barely remembers, not the ones he originally planned, but seeming even more needed than the first idea.

This is it. It can't go on like this.

"Skyline International, how may I help you?"

"Hello, what openings do you have for departing flights?"

* * *

**A/N: **I can't seem to write this fic recently. I think in the future I'll have many stories going so that if I'm not feeling one of them I can just do another. Anyway, this is where the storyline really starts to tie in with To Live in Forever.

Review! Constructive criticism? Compliments?


	9. Arrival

**Chapter 9: Arrival**

He stands outside in the late afternoon shadows, watching as the streetlights slowly come on one by one. The sky is threatening overhead, with tall dark clouds approaching from the horizon and gusts of wind blowing down the streets. All around the neighborhood people pull in their lawn chairs and take down outside ornaments; no one spares him a glance. He's relieved at the lack of attention. He came here to get away from everything.

Well, almost everything.

His feet take him down old paths, past childhood haunts and places he almost remembers. Little has changed in the two years he's been gone. Some shops have been switched owners, a few apartment buildings have sprung up, but for the most part he knows the way around.

Before he realizes it he's there at the old gates, looking down the streets of the campus. Classes had let out a while ago and the grounds are deserted but for the occasional straggler running to their destination. He finds his familiar stride as he walks down the streets, remembering on impulse the corners he liked to jump over and where puddles would gather when rain fell. After a while the school buildings give way to crammed complexes; three story high dorms. He stops and looks up.

Up on the top floor of the third building is the dorm. A laundry line hangs bare across the balcony. She must have taken her things down so the storm wouldn't soil them. Just moments ago. He breathes in deep. He can feel her here, almost imagine her inside, probably reading or working, perhaps making dinner. It would…

A crash of thunder snaps him out of his trance, his eyes flashing open and taking in the bright arches of light across the sky. He flips his head up, raindrops falling on his lips and then more insistently across his face and shoulders. He gazes around, searching for some kind of shelter, until his eyes rise back to the third floor, falling again after a moment. No. He has a feeling she would not appreciate it if he stumbled into her house dripping wet. It's near sunset after all and he doesn't exactly feel like having a frying pan thrown at him out of supposed self-defense.

He sighs, gnashing his teeth together and suddenly feeling very foolish. What is he doing? Running away and then stalling when he gets to the place he needs to go? There shouldn't be an excuse. He should go up there right now and-

All the same he finds himself walking away, halting every other step to curse himself for being a coward.

"Tomorrow…" he whispers and glances back again out of the corner of his eye. "Just some time…I can do it tomorrow." With a shake of his sopping jacket he pulls the hood over his head and starts down the street again, mind whirling for another destination. Somewhere close, someone that won't trip over themselves trying to talk to him…

Hmm…there is someone else here he could see, isn't there?

* * *

The wind picks up as he struggles through the streets turning into a full on gale as he reaches his destined street. Lightning flashes overhead and rain pours down in sheets, almost obstructing the view of the house. Feeling as if he's drowning in midair he stumbles up the front steps and thanks the heavens that the house is so close to campus.

With a test on the handle he pushes the door open – he's glad it's unlocked, as he hadn't thought about what he would do if it's occupant wasn't home – and steps inside, spitting curses and shaking the water from his clothing. Watching the drips of water splatter across the wood floor he sees something move out of the edge of his vision. Glancing up he meets eyes with a petite and rather terrified looking girl. She clings close to the staircase and stares at him with something akin to horror.

_"Crap,_" he exclaims, glancing around his surroundings and hitting himself for not checking the address number. "This is the wrong house, isn't it?" The unfamiliar girl merely gapes at him, taking in his appearance, recognition beginning to register in her eyes. She opens her mouth the tiniest bit when a noise from the staircase interrupts her.

"_Gakupo?"_ He raises his eyes to the top of the stairs and feels a grin spreading across his face. Flinging his drenched hair over one shoulder he strides up to the man at the top and throws his arm around him.

"Kaito, my friend! I have arrived at long last!" Gakupo bellows, finding welcome distraction in his friend's bewildered expression. "Let us celebrate with endless rounds of karaoke and beer!" Kaito grins embarrassedly and passes the flashlight to the girl at the bottom of the stairs. He takes a few steps down, pulling Gakupo with him.

"Thanks for telling me you were coming. Karaoke? Have you seen the weather?" Gakupo smiles insanely. Just being in his presence is taking his mind off things and providing him with the release he'd been looking for. Perhaps there are other things that need to be done, but there's no use worrying over them now while he can't do anything. This is his friend, his _best_ friend, who he hasn't seen in two years.

Gakupo starts towards the door, an extensive plan for a night of losing one's troubles forming in his mind. "Nothing short of death will halt my onward march towards endless songs and bar waitresses in lewd outfits!" With another step Kaito suddenly halts, his head turning to the stairs. The girl is still standing there, surveying the situation with hesitant curiosity.

"I can't leave her by herself." Kaito's voice is quiet as he gently strains against Gakupo's grasp.

"Why not?"

He turns back around, a hint of possessive anger in his eyes, and opens his mouth, about to speak. Suddenly the girl steps forward. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about it." Her voice is high but clear and very soft. Gakupo realizes it is the first time she has spoken. Some kind of understanding sparks between the girl and Kaito as they look at each other, and Gakupo feels the unfamiliar discomfort of being a third wheel.

"Er…Are you guys on a date or something?" The girl flushes red and both of them violently shake their heads, not meeting eyes. Gakupo bites his lip, trying hard not to laugh and shrugs, flinging the door open and pulling his friend out into the rain.

* * *

"Have I ever mentioned how much I hate you?" Kaito slaps down a twenty on the counter and takes the key from the attendant, sending a scowl Gakupo's way through dripping bangs. The musician snatches the key from his hand and starts down the hallway, looking for their room, while whistling and twirling a damp strand of hair.

"I make life exciting," Gakupo retaliates and slips the key in their door, entering into a room with a large flat screen TV, microphones, and chairs. "Admit it, you'd die of boredom without me." With a good-natured sigh Kaito pulls a chair forward and takes a seat as Gakupo begins fiddling with the electronics.  
"Go order some drinks or something," he says as heavy metal begins blasting through the speakers, causing his friend to cringe.

"Alright, turn that down," Kaito grumbles and steps out of the room, returning in a moment with two cans of soda. Gakupo surveys them dolefully.

"No booze?" Kaito shrugs and pops open a can, plopping down again in his chair. Gakupo follows suit and sips carbonated liquid out of the aluminum with the air of some greatly oppressed underling. Setting the can down on the table with a clang he turns to the microphone just as a song starts. He breathes in and belts out the notes, shaking the furniture with the loud volume. It's a silly song, fast and fluid, and it rolls off his tongue with precision. Kaito watches him the entire time, shaking his head slightly and smiling. He finishes the song with a flourish of ascending notes and turns back around to face his friend, spinning the microphone lazily.

"So," he smirks evilly. "Who's the girl?" Kaito meets his gaze coolly.

"A classmate."

"Why was she at your house?"

Kaito sighs a little, his eyelids drooping as he sinks into thought. After a moment he sticks out his hand and grabs the microphone. "I'm gonna sing a bit." He stands and scrolls aimlessly through the songs, finally coming across one and staring at the title song and hard before selecting it.

_A shotgun and a telecaster_

_Words said for you, how unhappy_

_All alone in the city streets_

_You hate the sound of a gunshot, don't you?_

His singing is rusty, but lovely in its rawness. He stops the song after only one verse, cutting off the music abruptly. Gakupo tilts his head, trying to figure out what Kaito was trying to prove through that display. The man just hands him back the microphone and shrugs, seeming rather burned out. Gakupo purses his lips. "You never answered the question."

Kaito looks at him sourly. "Why do you want to know?"

"I knew it!" The musician makes a dismayed expression and leaps up, clinging to the wall as if afraid that Kaito is going to jump him. "You had her in your clutches and I just happened in and –" Kaito stops him with a hand over his face.

"Oh just shut up," he says and removes his hand, blushing faintly. With a victorious smile Gakupo sits down next to him.

"You may as well tell me. I squeeze it out of you anyway." He reasons. "Besides, it is my duty as a friend to hear about – and then mess with – all your relationships with females." Kaito sighs again and folds his hands under his chin.

"I'm taking care of her," he says quietly. "Her home…wasn't safe, so I got her out of there." He moves his face downward, half buried in his hands. "She never seemed to bode well alone so I took her in." Gakupo blinks, remembering the strange conversation and interaction that had occurred as he stormed in. He stays silent, waiting for elaboration, but that seems to be all Kaito will say on the subject.

"Well way to go," He congratulates and slaps his friend on the back. "You managed to save the day and still get the girl you love in bed with you."

Kaito chokes on air and spins sideways, his cobalt eyes wide. "W-what?" he stutters. Gakupo assumes he isn't asking about the 'in bed' part of that sentence. He's learned to ignore that sort of thing.

"Oh, please," Gakupo chuckles, satisfied that his suspicions about his friend's feelings were correct and taking a sip of soda. He waves his hand in Kaito's direction. "It's written all over…well everything actually."

The blue haired man sits for a moment in silence, staring absently at the TV screen. "Why'd you come to me?" he asks all of a sudden, not reproachfully or accusingly, just curiously. "I'm sure you didn't come all the way here just to have a karaoke night." Gakupo thinks for a moment.

"Ah, I dunno." He scratches his chin, his mind floating over his real reason for coming back. It hangs in the back of his mind, promising, yet terrifying, and so possibly painful. "Guess I just wanted to get away from everything, you know? Life gets crazy."

Kaito looks away, thoughtful for a moment, and then leans back against the chair and closes his eyes as if praying. "Yes," he whispers. "Yes it does."

* * *

**A/N: **Obviously all of this was in the present. I think everything from now on will be.

I love Gakupo and Kaito's relationship. Gak is such a...free spirit_ *cough* _hyperactive tempest incarnate_ *cough*_ and Kai is just so...ordinary. I wish I could write more of it...

I'm getting a little tired of this story, but I have almost all of it written so I guess I'll just push through. Also I know how much people hate it when you leave stuff unfinished.

All the story ideas are up on my profile. Look and vote if you care, otherwise just prepare yourself for some randomly chosen plot bunny that won't stop chewing on me. (my poor toes...)


	10. After The Lights Go Out

**Chapter 10: After the Lights Go Out**

It's happening again. Luka drops her phone on the tangled sheets of her bed, trying to ignore the clench in her chest at the sight of her unanswered messages. Days have passed since she heard from him last, that strange conversation late at night. Perhaps that was it. That's all there will be. The thought is somehow consoling. No more of this back and forth nonsense. No more of him.

Would that be better?

She sighs and opens the door to her small balcony, letting the fresh morning air wash over her. The outside is damp with last night's rain. Drips hang from the railing and her laundry line, bare but for clothespins. They catch and reflect the light, sending small shivers of brightness across her line of vision, before eventually falling and splattering onto the floor below. Luka hesitantly leans against the soaked railing, looking out over the awakening city. There's a tingle to the air, a strange brightness that leaks in and lifts her spirits but unsettles her at the same time. Everything seems too still, like it's waiting for her to go out and disturb it. Like she has to.

She yawns, blinking restless sleep out of her eyes. Her eyes wander over the city, feeling the tug, tracing familiar streets. Well, she has to return her library books anyway.

* * *

A drop of water falls from a leaf and hits Gakupo squarely between the eyes, running across his forehead and down his nose. He frowns at the offending tree, daring it to drip on him again, and leans against the trunk.

It's tomorrow. The thought runs rapid through his mind. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow is today. It must happen today. Today is the day. He spins the words round and round, trying to fit them together in new ways, easier ways, but eventually shaking them away at the sight of the pair in the distance. Again, it must happen, but not imminently. There's something else first. Someone else. Is he putting it off? No, there's just more than one person that's important to him. He's not stalling. Liar.

He raises his hands as the pair approaches, calling out their names exuberantly and clapping. The man steps forward shaking his head almost sadly. "Stop before someone calls the police." Gakupo obliges and looks around nervously, noting that people have indeed begun to turn their heads. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and stares upwards, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. He's had some pretty bad experiences with large crowds, especially when they were livid.

With an arm around his friend's shoulder he enters the building, peeking backwards out of the corner of his eye once or twice. The girl, Miku, follows them quietly, hands folded and head tilted like a doll. They sit at their table and make their orders. As the menus are whisked away Gakupo leans his elbows on the tabletop, looking across the surface at the teal haired person across from him. He studies her posture, her body language, the way she reacts to him staring at her. She stares unblinkingly back, a hint of wariness in her gaze, but a tinge of annoyance as well, as if him looking at her is some kind of personal insult.

He sighs, satisfied. She seems calm, well-ground, but not a pushover. "You'll do," he says approvingly and leans back, smirking slightly as Kaito scowls and clenches his hands. Miku looks at him questioningly, causing a hint of color to rise in his cheeks, and he raises a hand, lowering it angrily and making Gakupo laugh. Yes, this will be fun.

"So…" he slurs, resting his gaze on Miku again. She retreats back into her seat a bit, biting her lip. Kaito scowls further.

"Gakupo," he growls. The musician feels laughter bubbling up inside him again, but he forces it down, keeping a deadly straight face as he continues staring at the girl, preparing to deliver the news that his friend is too beta to say. Kaito has never liked anyone before; this is exciting. Gakupo can finally torture him with embarrassing stories and girlfriend-related blackmail. That is, if they get together. Which will never happen if not for the help of the wonderful Gakupo Kamui!

Looking back at his friend, anger and stress paints itself across his face, along with a hint of desperation. Gakupo shakes his head. "C'mon Kaito."

"No!"

"_Kaiiiiiito~!" _He rolls his eyes, the chuckle finally coming out and glances out the window, thinking of what to say. Outside it is cool, with grey clouds drifting lazily over the sun, pale blue dots of sky scattered in-between. Across the road there's a sidewalk, dotted with budding cherry trees and old women walking their tiny dogs.

There she is.

Before he realizes what he's doing, he's up and out the door, his feet carrying him across the road. Her back is to him, long hair swaying as she walks. He doesn't think about what he was doing, what he's going to do now, what he's going to say. He's not sure what he ever meant to say to her, but he doesn't care. She's there, right there, close enough that he can smell her shampoo. She's there.

"_Luka!"_ She spins around, her eyes widening as he wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her neck. He hears her gasp as he lifts her up, twirling her around on the sidewalk and setting her down again.

"Luka!" he says again, breathlessly. She stares at him with eyes as wide as saucers, a blue so familiar he could paint it in his sleep. They drop after a moment to the ground, where a series of books have fallen out of her arms. He continues talking, rambling off any and every thing that comes into his mind, and waving his arms out dramatically. "The eggs were runny and Kaito was really mad at me, but now the day is-"

_Clunk._ His head goes sideways and his words trail off, gaze wandering over to the hardback book that connected with the side of his cranium. It slowly lowers and he straightens, ignoring the ringing in his ears as Luka steps forward, her lips drawn back in a disbelieving grimace.

"What are you doing here?" she steps closer to him, a finger coming up and jabbing near his face. "You're here? Just _moseying_ around, eating with your friends-"her words choke and she settles for just stepping forward again. Her eyebrows draw together almost painfully. "Do you even know…do you have any idea…" Her posture deflates and she sinks downwards slightly, seeming as if she was just punched in the stomach. Not looking him in the eye she turns around and stalks back the way she came, arms clutching each other roughly.

He watches her go, watches the way her fingers tear at the edges of her sleeves, and his hands clench into fists, his euphoria replaced with something heavier, deeper. That look. That was the same expression she had the last time her saw her, when they said goodbye. Longing, hiding pain, it's still there. But, he knew that didn't he?

No. He's not going to let her get away again.

* * *

**A/N: **Dun, dun, DUN! Cliffhanger~! I'm evil:) Almost done writing though so the chapters should be posted faster.

So now we find out what that Bromantic conversation was about!Hah, Kaito is probably so pissed at him...


	11. Three Little Words

**Chapter 11: Three Little Words**

The wind rushing past her blows incessantly in her ears, muting the screaming that she otherwise would be hearing. She can still feel his hands on her arms, lifting her and spinning her through the air. She can see his joyful expression, his ignorant and obvious bliss at seeing her.

It stings. His handprints smart like a thousand needles, his laughter shoots pain through her mind, his bright eyes burn into her, going deeper and deeper and eventually squeezing something deep inside of her until it pops.

_What is he thinking?_

Her vision blurs and she allows her feet to carry her down familiar pathways, trusting people to run out of her way. Something rumbles near her, but reason has left her mind and she doesn't care what type of thing could be bearing down on her. All she can think is _run_. Get out of there. Get away from him. Maybe the pain will stop if she does.

Something wet and cold drops on her head and she halts, looking upwards. All around her people run into their buildings or pull out umbrellas as the rain begins to drip down from the gathering grey clouds. The storms from last night don't seem to be over, or at least they have some straggling rain clouds hanging behind them.

She shivers, suddenly realizing how tired and cold she is. She searches around, looking for a place to shelter, but eventually just settles down on a bench, rain dripping onto her from the leaves of the tree above. The warm restaurants and shops hold no interest for her at the moment. Their cheery and inviting atmosphere only seems to mock her, giving her a glimpse of what life could be like if only she would change her mind, give up…

Her face falls into her hands. Why had any of this happened? Why had everything gone wrong? Had she done something? Had he? What was it? When did they go down a road that would lead to sorrow?

She tried to keep in touch. Is that it? She wouldn't give up on something already dead and gone? She got angry with him. She ruined something perfect? No, it isn't any of those. Everything started way before, with a simple choice, one that seemed so obvious.

She had said those words. Those three simple words ruined everything. They took something simple and sweet and eternal and made it complicated, intense, heartbreaking. Their friendship could've lasted forever. It was the classic childhood story. Neighbors all through life; never lose touch. It would have been nice. It would have been easy.

But it wasn't. It isn't. It's difficult and confusing and makes absolutely no sense. It flared, it died, and they poked the ashes half-heartedly. But after all that he still shows up here? Embracing her like nothing happened?

Everything had happened. Everything had gone wrong. All because of three little words.

Those three words.

She wishes she could regret them, but she can't. Because even after all of this…

After everything, they're still true.

No matter what, she still loves him.

There's a wet squishing sound as someone sits down next to her, their breathing heavy and loud. She stares blankly ahead around the edges of her knees pulled to her chest, the legs of her jeans soaked through with water. Something warm and dry is draped across her shoulders and a smell of spice and musk wafts over her, making her dizzy with memory. The fur around the neckline tickles at her cheeks and she sighs, forcing herself to stay silent.

"I was hoping for a slightly warmer reception." Pain shoots through her at the sound of his voice, her teeth digging into her lip. No other words are said for a moment, the rain just patters down around them, growing more insistent every second. He shifts next to her, a boot clad foot coming into view beyond her knees. The boot has a partner. They're attached to legs. Legs go upwards, meet the chest. At the top is a head, covered in sopping violet hair falling out of a messy half-bun. Ice blue eyes, different from her own deep warm cerulean. They stare nonjudgmentally at her and she can see herself reflected in them, wet and disheveled, curled into a pathetic ball on a bench.

His hand moves the tiniest bit, but quickly stops itself and compresses into a fist. "Hey," his voice is quiet, empty of his usually smartass tone. "Are you alright?"

A leaf detaches itself from the three above them and flutters downward. She watches as it falls into the street and is carried by a stream of water into the drain to disappear underground. A shiver goes through her again, but doesn't stop after one pass through her body. Instead it reverberates again and again, picking up in the small corners of her fingers and toes and amplifying back into her stomach, her head, like a never ending echo.

It doesn't fix anything. Feelings don't change anything. She can love him as much as she wants, but nothing will really come of it. They hurt each other. Every second the thought of one passes through the other's mind it's painful.

"No." her voice cracks on the single syllable.

He sighs, turning to face the street again. "I didn't think so." Silence reigns once more, begging to be broken but showing no way to do so. Her fingernails dig into her legs, pulling them closer to her. Beside her, he says something, but his words sound distorted, as if she's underwater.

A gust of wind sends her wet hair flying around her and a hand grabs her arm, feeling like the burn of a hot oven. She stares back with frantic eyes, but he just tugs insistently, standing up. "Go…somewhere…heavier…" His voice is hard to understand with the rush of wind and water all around, but she gets what he means. Go somewhere safer? Why? She feels herself sink further into the wood seat. The storm has picked up and cold rain pricks at her skin. Something about the setting seems fitting, not comfortable, in fact quite the opposite, but altogether Luka could appreciate the way the trees strain with the gusts and the rain pelts the street in sheets.

Another hand grabs her other arm and lifts her off the bench, towing her down the street hastily. They reach an awning of a café and he reaches over, pulling the hood of his coat over her head, before beginning sprinting again.

He pulls her down street after street, sheltering under trees and dodging cars, until the streets look familiar. She bleakly notices the University gates go by and that they're on campus. Still he pulls her through the roads, across the parking lot, and up stairs to the third floor. He stops at the door, looking at her expectantly.

The door clicks as she turns the key, opening into her dorm, dark with drawn curtains. She stands in the doorway, dully looking around. His voice is next to her ear, urging her forward, and she steps in, but feels the air still moving with the current of outside behind her. A glance around reveals that he hasn't stepped in, but is just holding the door awkwardly. There was a time when he would have barged in without preamble, sometimes catching her while she was dressing and earning a smack across the face. But now, to just waltz into her room with invitation…

She steps aside and turns slightly, gesturing into the room with hands that feel like lead. With a ringing of his soaked clothing he steps inside and the door closes, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

He looks at her as if meaning to say something, but inside his gaze eventually wanders over the walls, the furniture, the windows, nostalgia reflecting in his eyes. Strange tingles go up and down her spine and she wants to move, but is afraid to step off the tilted section of the entrance and ruin her carpet. She bites her lip, feeling some sort of vitality pour back into her, and folds her arms.

"What…" her voice is the tiniest croak. "What are you doing here?"

* * *

**A/N:** Two more chapters! I actually just finished writing the thing and I am SOOOOOO happy. It's finally off my back! I'm FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Ahem, so yeah. Two more chapters. I'm gonna go write something new now...


	12. Faith

**Chapter 12: Faith**

He stands there, dripping drops of rain onto the cold tile and staring around the room. She watches as his jaw clenches tighter and tighter as he takes in each piece of furniture, every picture on the wall. She hasn't moved anything around -the room doesn't belong to her so she's not allowed to change much – and it appears the exact same way as the last time he was here.

At the sound of her voice his gaze flickers back to her, a broken and faded smile stretching across his face. His eyes are pleading, the same charming puppy dog expression in them that won her over so many times. She looks away, stripping his wet jacket off and holding it out to him. Long callused fingers reach out and take it from her, raising it to his face for a moment and then hanging it on the doorknob with a dejected look. Underneath her clothes are mostly dry, and she rolls up her pant legs once before removing her shoes and stepping onto the carpet. Still on the tile he looks at her again, soaking wet and pitiful, not saying anything. She feels a twinge of guilt – he did give her his jacket – but pushes it off, averting her eyes again so that his gaze can have no effect on her.

"What are you doing here?" she repeats again. Out of the corner of her vision he shifts, putting his weight on another foot.

"Well, I came to see you obviously." She cringes at the words, almost biting her tongue as her teeth grind together. Such comments have been lost to her for so long she's almost forgotten what they feel like. They should be nice and send pleasant butterflies loose in her stomach, but instead she feels almost sick. They're too sweet, like liquid sugar, and they drown her in in a sticky too-good-to-be-true feeling.

She doesn't respond and he doesn't make another sound, just moves again and sets something down on a side table, being careful not to drip anything on the carpet. Sparing a glance she catches sight of a small stack of books, damp but not ruined, arranged there; her library books. She had forgotten all about them.

There's a sigh as he lowers himself to the floor, squatting on just the edge of the cemented doorway. He puts his head in one hand and stares at her, forcing her gaze onto him, daring her to walk away but begging her to stay.

She finds herself setting herself down, a foot or so away, and glaring tiredly at his faint grin. Her hands lay flat on the carpet, clutching at the itchy fabric. He tilts his head slowly, violet bangs shifting across his forehead. "I came to see you," he repeats again, his voice strangely calm. "I was going to drop by soon but you found me first." He laughs a little, the sound mixing with the echoes of falling rain and disappearing into the corners of the room. Still she just sits there, a dull ache throbbing in her chest.

A breath exhales into the air and he slouches, eyebrows furrowing and looking at the ground. "You don't seem too happy." His voice is barely audible but she picks it up in the muteness of the scene, her eyes widening. He doesn't look at her, just stares absently at a wall with an unreadable emotion. He seems so comfortable for the situation, as if all the screaming and angst between them was merely a mix-up.

She doesn't even realize that she's leaning forward, scrambling to all fours. Ice blue eyes return to her at last, surprise registering in them at her furious expression. "_Happy?"_ she asks, her speech tiny and severe. He sits up straighter at her sharp tone and she finally cracks, words spilling out of her mouth, all filters removed.

"You promise me forever, but then leave me high and dry, and then come back just when I could _finally_ get over you, and you expect me to be _happy?_" He opens his mouth to say something, but she doesn't let him, just storms on, panting from lack of breathing. "Are you just not _satisfied_ with messing me up once? Do you like thinking that you have leverage over someone and having someone pine after you?" His eyebrows rise and she falters for a moment at his hurt expression, but starts up again just as fast. She knows that's not true, that he's not that kind of guy. She knows what she's saying is ridiculous, but all the same she will say it. Because it will make everything easier. Because a clean break would set them free, set them both free. This has to be done. They'll just wind up hurting each other more and more with this hectic dance of pseudo-friendship.

"You think I _need _you?" she hisses, the words tasting like acid on her tongue. "Did you think that if you came back I'd cry all over you and beg for you to stay? I'm done with this." The last words are final, flat, and her fingernails dig into her palms as she says them. "I am done with you."

He's leaned back on his hands, away from her threatening expression. His eyes are wide, his lips parted, the gleam of polished teeth visible in the depths of his mouth. He blinks once, seeming to recollect himself and ducks his head, his lips pressing together.

"Well, I'm not over you."

It's amazing the impact the words have on her. A shudder goes through her body and she falls back on her heels, shaking and pushing herself away from him. He leans forward, grabbing her hands which try to wander up to her face and cover her eyes. His soft words of comfort just feel like a knife twisting her stomach, like she's trying to keep it in and stunt the bleeding but he's trying to pull it out, assuring her that it'll hurt less that way.

"I never forgot about you," he begs. He turns her face, trying to look her in the eye, but she just closes them, focusing instead on the drumming of rain on the roof. "I'd see something familiar – cherry trees, a book store, - and suddenly you'd be everywhere." His voice is insistent, focused, and so true. The knife twists again, slipping out of her grasp. She latches onto it again, pulling it back in.

"Luka," he murmurs and she closes her eyes tighter, trying to block out the sweet sound. "Please. I don't," his voice gets quieter and his grip on her hands tightens, almost hurting her. "I don't want it to be this way."

A soundless sob works its way out of her and a pair of tears rolls down her face. Her voice is strained, bursting with words that she's not used to saying. Her emotions, she doesn't often put them in words. She doesn't speak her mind. Pulling the feelings out from inside her and pushing them out is something still very new, and very difficult.

"There's nothing_ left_ though!" she cries, shaking her head and stopping the water in her eyes. "We'd hurt each other. Who's to say it wouldn't all happen again-" She stops, unable to say more, and just lowers her face so he can't see her cry. There's silence only for a moment as he shifts both of her hands into on and leans down, his mouth next to her ear. What he asks is simple, quiet, but it practically stops her heart.

"Do you want it to be like this?"

She pulls back, trying to escape, but he holds tight, his voice growing more insistent. "Just answer. Just answer." His fingers feel like iron clasps. "Say yes…and I'll leave you alone." Her eyes fly open, focusing on the floor in-between her knees, her ears picking up the strain in those words. Wild adventures, ridiculous conversations, endless silly songs until midnight; those things. Those things.

_Set us both free._

No. She doesn't want to be free. She wants the opposite. She wants to be tied down, stuck, together. She wants permanence. She wants him.

Her head shakes slowly from side to side, each movement feeling like she's shaking water out of her hair. She hears him take in a breath and then leans closer, his lips just millimeters away from her skin.

"Then take a leap of faith." She raises her head, eyebrows knitted at the strange saying, and meets his gaze, level and composed. "And then another. Trust each other," he says, almost as if speaking to the air. "Trust that we'll make it work." His hands loosen around hers and instead move under them to cup them from below, rubbing his thumbs across her palms.

"We won't make the same mistakes again. We'll be honest with each other. We'll make new mistakes and become angry, but we'll talk about it and fix it." He leans forward ever so slightly, and she sees the slightest bit of unease there, fear of rebuff. Slowly she leans forward as well, not very much, but enough. He closes his eyes and wraps his fingers around her own. She slips one pinky out from her fist and cradles his in it. His voice is soft, almost a whisper. "And then we'll laugh together." His eyes are soft as they meet hers, a more sincere and serious blue than she has ever seen. "How does that sound?"

Not perfect. They'll be mistakes. But trust. Together. Fights. But fixes. _How does that sound?_

_ Is that what you want?_

She hears him inhale in surprise as she leans forward, her head resting against his chest. She feels the wet material soak the top of her hair but doesn't move, just tries to send out her feelings through the contact. There's so much bubbling under her lips, words that are important but she can't say. She hopes he understands them.

_Yes? Yes. That'll work? That will work._ _I don't care, I just want you. I missed you. I love you. _

Only one sentence comes out her mouth however.

"Do you rehearse these lines or something?" she asks and sighs, pulling her arms up and around his shoulders. "Honestly, where do you learn to speak like that?"

She feels him stiffen in surprise at her touch but quickly relax and bring a hand up to cradle her head closer to him. "I don't know," he says wonderingly, with just a hint of smugness. He shrugs. "I'm just that great I guess."

She smiles, not bothering to reprimand his arrogance, and pulls back a little, just enough to look him in the eye. They are a familiar powder blue, framed by heavy lashes that girls all over the world have fallen in love with. But he's hers. Hers. And…

"You'll have to keep your promise," she whispers almost absentmindedly. He strokes the back of her head and smiles, his eyes closing.

"So selfish are we?" he teases but continues before she can retort.

"I know." His hand is firm on her neck. "I know."

* * *

**A/N: **I hope this didn't turn out too sappy or unrealistic. Their reunion seems a bit too 'simple' but it's the type of thing that would happen if I was in that situation. Straightforward, simple. "What do you want to happen? That's what will happen then."

Anyway, reviews make me happy! There's one more chapter.


	13. Epilogue: Forward

**Epilogue: Forward**

He rubs his fingernails on the edge of the concrete stairs and checks his watch irritatedly. The nails fray and split and the clock hands scream at him '_Late! Late!_' like some kind of wonderland bunny on his wrist. With a sigh he stands up, pacing back and forth in front of the door, thinking over his lines, what he'll say, how she should be here already. His business here weighs in his stomach and wiggles around, not foreboding, but slightly uncomfortable. With a hand through his hair he turns from the door and stares down the road, breathing out as he sees the figure striding towards him. She halts for a moment at the sight of him but continues onward and eventually comes to stop just a few feet away. He steps forward, tilting his head and thinking.

"So…" Words elude him and he mentally curses himself for not coming up with a plan of attack before coming here. No one accompanies her, and he's thankful for that. Having someone else around would complicate things further. While it's one thing to have a really strange impromptu conversation with a girl you don't know, it's another thing to have a really strange impromptu conversation with a girl you don't know while other people are watching you suspiciously.

Plopping himself down on the steps again, he throws his head into his hands and leans backwards groaning. How did he manage to get himself into this? Why did he decide to 'talk' to her?

Because they need a push?

Because he can see where this will go otherwise?

Because everyone deserves a happy ending?

"_Look," _he says, gathering his thoughts and ideas and forming them into a topic, words. His hand stays suspended in mid-air and as he thinks he realizes that too many seconds have gone by.

The girl sighs and wraps her arms around herself, her pale skin seeming translucent in the bright sunlight. "If you have something to say, just say it," Miku commands in a tiny but stern voice, her big teal eyes seeming wary. "Otherwise let me inside." He blinks once and stretches his hands out, capturing her attention and his thoughts. He had learned more about her through his friend. No specifics, but it had become obvious that the girl had had some kind of trauma in her past. She's scared. Of everything. That's no good. That's what he'll address.

"Life…" he drawls slowly. "Life really sucks, doesn't it?"

* * *

Luka hears him jog up next to her, his knapsack slapping against his back with each stride. She stops thumbing through her workbook and glances up, gesturing to the seat next to her. With a sigh he plops himself into it, handing her a slip of paper and leaning over to look at her book.

"So it's all worked out?" His eyes float down to the tote bag at her feet, leaning against a larger piece of luggage.

She nods, closing her book and sliding it into the bag. "They gave me everything I'll need for independent study. I'll just have to return for a while to take the final exams." The chair next to her groans as he reclines in it, breath coming a little fast from sprinting some distance. He blows bangs out of his face and smiles at her from behind the strands, an awkward and sheepish grin. She returns it right as a speaker comes on over the intercom.

"_Gate B-4, departing. Passengers 1-35 please board."_

"That's us," he says and stands, facing the metal door that open. Two ladies in uniform stand at the entrance, taking tickets and wishing good travels to passengers. Luka walks forward with him, watching as his fingers clench and unclench nervously. She can't blame him for his unease. He's breaking contract. Even though his manager would be an idiot to let him go for something as small as bringing a companion, it's still a risk.

Her fingers find his and she can practically feel the world warp around her, setting up a new path for the two of them to take now that they have made this decision. Their feet stride in unison as they hand their tickets away and stride down the unstable hallway, the sound of engines buzzing nearby. Others pass them by, annoyed at their slow pace, until they are at the back of the line, standing still outside of the last set of doors.

"Do you think it'll be alright?" His voice is softly shaking, hinted with apprehension and something else. She looks up and they meet eyes, finding solace in the familiar shade of blue of the other. Her hand squeezes on his and his tightens in response, a type of affectionate contact that had come back to them almost immediately.

"We'll figure it out," she says, hoping her voice sounds resolute, and determining that the words will become true. He stares at her for a second, his lips barely parting, before he smiles and shuts his eyes. With one foot he steps onto a new surface and tugs on her arm, pulling her into the airplane.

He straightens up and brightness flows back into him, making him seem once again like the adventurous and ostentatious boy she had grown up with. His eyes are bright, his smile true and familiar and without a trace of misgiving. It's something she hasn't seen for a long time, not since things started going bad between them, and it feels like a breath of fresh air through her.

"Come on," he says and guides her down the aisle. Many different faces watch as they pass. The air smells like something new.

"I have so much to show you."

* * *

**A/N: **Note to females. Don't do this.

The End! If anyone's confused about her leaving I'll probably straighten it out later. You see, I'm planning on putting up a fic that is basically just a bunch of random fluffy and awesome moments from B.A.H. and T.W.W. that never made into the actual stories. For some reason this universe of characters just won't leave me alone...

I'll probably be writing Heat Haze Days next. Sorry to anyone who wanted something different; I'll do them all eventually. I find that if I make myself write a story that I haven't thoroughly thought out yet it doesn't turn out as well as one I know by heart. Thus, Heat Haze Days...*begins writing erratically*


End file.
